


Traditions Of Battle

by noctiscorvus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Not sorry at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiscorvus/pseuds/noctiscorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is a traditionalist, who's Michael to disagree?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions Of Battle

This wasn’t supposed to happen, not yet anyway.  
The prophet had placed their meeting five months from now and Lucifer was supposed to be wearing Samuel, not the second choice vessel.  
And it was planned at a cemetery, not some run down motel.  
Lucifer also had more on than just a bed sheet draped around his waist.

“Brother, I didn’t expect you.” But the Devil’s lazy smirk suggests otherwise “And your vessels seem to keep getting younger.”  
Michael narrows his eyes because this won’t do, he’s not ready and this isn’t how it’s supposed to go down.  
“It’s a Winchester and that’s all that matters. Why am I here and why are you undressed?” And he can’t help it if he makes it sound like the idea of someone being nude is a sin in and of itself.  
His brother should not be playing around.

Lucifer seems to think otherwise though, and shrugs rather like he doesn’t care “Who knows.” And he says something else, but Michael’s eyes have zoned in on the sheet, watching it slip down lower on his hips and then there’s that bulge and.. Oh.  
He’s back to staring into those frosty blue eyes, mischief glinting back at him as he glares.  
“I’m supposed to kill you and you want to play?” Michael makes sure his little brother knows exactly how much of an idiot he finds him right now.  
“For old times sake.” Lucifer’s smirk deepens now that he knows the eldest has caught up with the program “You never went to battle without coming to see me first. Why should it change now, brother?”

And the way he purrs ‘brother’, slinking forward as he lets the sheet drop, has Michael licking his suddenly dry lips.  
His vessel is interested, very much so, betraying his thoughts on the proposition, but as General of the angels, the spear point in the battle against the Devil’s forces, he has to stand against this.  
“Because the one I’m at war with is you. It makes no sense.” And that’s that.  
Or so he thinks, as he stays exactly where he is when Lucifer presses up against him, an unfamiliar cold heat seeping through his clothes.  
He doesn’t notice he’s touching Lucifer, fingers digging into a hip to keep him close, till his brother’s hand is over his that lays spread flat on the Devil’s chest, the soft heartbeat of the vessel keeping a steady rhythm.  
“Does it have to?” Is whispered to his lips, and Michael can’t find reason enough to say yes, isn’t actually thinking much at all as he leans in and seals their mouths together.

It’s soft and sweet, like a homecoming, but it’s different than he remembers and he hates Lucifer for it, the slight chill he now carries with him.  
‘You shouldn’t have done it.’ he’s saying, as he makes it rough and dirty, hands coming up to frame Lucifer’s face, holding him there, making him take the anger.  
But Lucifer pulls his hands away, brings them back to the soft kiss, little nips as he speaks “Save it for the battle. Unless you’re into the rough stuff?”  
And he quirks an eyebrow just so, Michael’s own pants suddenly too tight as he understands that Lucifer wants it dirty and rough.  
”You haven’t changed, little brother.” Michael licks the Devil’s lips, tongue dragging along the bottom one teasingly slow as it’s turned up into another smirk.  
”I can promise you there’s nothing small on me with this vessel.” And Michael can feel exactly what he means, a hard line pressing against his own heavy bulge.  
“You never were one for being modest.” The eldest gasps as the lips of Sin trail down his neck, licking and biting.  
Lucifer breathes out a low chuckle, the vibrations running through both their bodies “It doesn’t suit me.” He then bit down particularly hard, where Michael’s neck and shoulder met, drawing a deliciously wanton sound from his brother “Besides, you know I don’t like to lie.”

Michael opens his mouth to reply, fingers dragging themselves down pale skin, leaving red marks that stung, when he’s yanked forward and onto the bed, the disadvantage of wearing clothes when with a handsy brother.  
”You obviously like the sound of this vessel’s voice.” Michael rolls his eyes, watching Lucifer crawl up his body, stopping just below his waist, fingers pulling at the belt, a devil’s grin playing his lips “I wonder what I like the most about it.”


End file.
